Resent, Reject, Regret

Deirdre tossed an implicative glance outside the kitchen.

“Believe me, I’ve seen the worst, and now nobody else’s skill could ever faze me again. Seriously, try to surprise me.”

“Heh.” Declan excitedly washed his hands and grabbed a spare knife. He made a few nicks and began to unpeel it.

“How’s this?”

Deirdre’s poor sight would not be able to help her tell, but she also thought this was the best opportunity to get Glenna and Declan talking again.

“What do you think, Glenna?”

Quietly exasperated, Glenna turned in the direction of Declan’s hand and noticed how beautiful his fingers really were. It was as if a man with good genes simply could not have anything remotely out of place in any part of their physical appearance. Glenna never fancied herself as someone who gave a dime about hands, and yet even her heart throbbed.

When she finally broke out of her trance, she realized she had been silent too long. Declan tried to dispel the awkwardness in the air with a chuckle. “I must have done a really crappy job if my panelist can’t review my handiwork.”

He made another nick.

“How about now?”

declared. She set her knife and potato down

himself, “Okay. I’ll take that as

disappeared into and felt her heart sink. She could not stop thinking about the conversation she had overheard. What happened? What was it that made Glenna hold that big of a grudge? She obviously had

later, she asked, “I know the two of you had made up, Mr. King, but why does it seem like

at that time despite himself and asked, “Say, what sort of thing would make Glenna cry,

of question is

replied, forcing himself out of his

tough type who would never shed

her work as she exhaled a breath. “Glenna’s a tough cookie. I’ve never seen or heard her cry before, which means… if she did cry, then it must have been over something that really

returned after the potato slices were almost done. She explained that she was

“Had something shady lately?”

super-spicy taco from the other day. D*mnit, I should have known!” she replied as she finished slicing the last potato. They poured oil into

to their other dishes-including Glenna’s stuffed eggplants- until, finally, the

had always been a lively chatterbox, yet today, she was uncharacteristically quiet and seemed almost